


If I Built This Fortress Around Your Heart

by texankate



Series: And Let Me Set the Battlements on Fire [1]
Category: Captain America (Movies), Iron Man (Movies), Marvel (Comics), Marvel Cinematic Universe, The Avengers (Marvel Movies)
Genre: Because Tony don't have time for his s#!+, But Steve better work his butt off, Captain America: Civil War (Movie) Spoilers, Fix-It, Hurt Bucky Barnes, Hurt Steve, Hurt Tony, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-05-26
Updated: 2016-06-21
Packaged: 2018-07-10 07:03:22
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 10
Words: 14,415
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/6972115
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/texankate/pseuds/texankate
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>If the whole debacle around the Accords taught Tony anything, it's that the number of people you can rely on NOT to screw you over is a lot smaller than you think it is.  So he builds up the walls around his heart, guarding the only people he has left.  And getting over those walls just might be more than Steve Rogers can accomplish.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Under the Ruins of a Walled City

_“Up next on WHIH Newsfront, Wall Street is reeling from the announcement from Stark Industries that Pepper Potts is transitioning out of her role as CEO.   The big question now?  Who will fill that void?  No word from embattled tech genius and ‘superhero’ Tony Stark, but shareholders are primed to sell off stocks in vast quantities...”_

“I really don’t like her,” Steve said, glaring at the television.  The former Avengers sprawled across the media room in the apartments that T’Challa had provided.

“Tony hates her more,” Natasha said, looking up from the scarf she was knitting.  

“Yeah, she never lets up on him,” Sam added.  “Seems personal.”

“Well, she slept with him and then he couldn’t remember her name,” Natasha explained, with a smirk.  “She really didn’t like that.” 

Steve ignored the references to Tony’s sex life.  “If Pepper is gone, he’ll have to step up, right?” he asked.  “Who else is there?”

“No one,” Natasha said, her lips turning down in a frown.  “There’s no one left.”

*****

The first thing Tony did after he read Steve’s passive aggressive little letter was drink himself stupid.  Actually, no.  The first thing he did was wing that fucking flip phone at the wall and watch it shatter.  The second thing he did was to drink himself stupid.  Once the hangover was gone, the third thing he did was throw out every bottle of booze in the joint.  

When it was all gone, he sat down and made a list of incontrovertible facts in this new reality. 

  1. Rhodey was the only one left to have his back unreservedly.  Vision was a close second, but Tony’s faith in him had been shaken by a stray bolt in Germany. Parker was great, but he was a kid and Tony regretted dragging him into this mess.
  2. Pepper wouldn’t be around much longer.  It was more than a break or a hiatus.  She was leaving him and the company for good.
  3. Thunderbolt Ross had better enjoy his little victory while he could.  He had dealt with the Accords in bad faith, which Tony could not allow.  Tony was owed some vengeance, and since Rogers was out of his reach and Barnes, upon further reflection, was just a tool, Ross would have to do.
  4. The dream that was The Avengers was dead.  It died in a bunker in Siberia when Steve smashed his shield into Iron Man’s arc reactor.
  5. He would never trust his former teammates, especially Steve Rogers again.  



 

*****

 

Steve grimaced as another heavy bag exploded in front of him.  He’d gotten used to the reinforced bags that Tony had given him, which stood up to his favorite method of stress relief.  While the bags in T’Challa’s gym were good, they weren’t Tony’s.   

Steve collapsed onto a mat and leaned back against the wall as he removed his hand wraps, noting the blood staining the knuckles.  It was like being fresh out of the ice again.  Nothing to occupy his thoughts but the past.  Bucky still out of his reach, this time in a cryo tube, but he might as well have been in the bottom of that ravine.  

T’Challa’s people had tried to help, but the conditioning that remained in Bucky’s brain was beyond their level of expertise.  Natasha was calling in favors left and right, but she was running into nothing but dead ends.  Apparently the last of the hydra goons involved in Bucky’s programming had been found dead in a little house in Cleveland, most likely a victim of Zemo’s plots.  And while there were plenty of mental health professionals who dealt with PTSD and trauma, Bucky’s case was a little more advanced than those. 

He took a gulp from his water bottle and tried not to think about the person who would probably be the most helpful in their situation.  He’d seen the video from Tony’s presentation at MIT.  His technology was probably the only thing that could help Bucky, but thanks to Steve, there was a snowball’s chance in Hell that Tony would help.  

Thinking of Tony brought him back to the news reports that he watched every day, following the trials and tribulations of his former team mate.  Ms. Potts was gone, and to the surprise of the financial analysts, Tony had stepped up and made a strong showing, unveiling a new product line that already had the tech-heads drooling in anticipation.  

Every picture, every video showed a Tony Stark who was vastly different from the gleeful badass who had delighted in mocking everything and everyone around him.  No, that Tony Stark had been replaced by a grim-faced tech titan, flanked at every moment by Colonel Rhodes and Vision.  The remaining Avengers stood guard over Tony like guardian, warrior angels.  Steve could see the change in Rhodey’s gait, and the faint bulge under his pants legs that were most likely an exoskeleton.  And he noticed the watch that was a War Machine twin to the red and gold watch that Tony wore.  They were never less than vigilant and never unarmed.

Steve worried that they wouldn’t be enough.  That someone would go after Tony for the mess that was the Accords, and they wouldn’t be able to stop them.  He should be there.  He should be protecting his former team mate.  His friend.  He’d sent Tony the phone, praying that he would call and tell Steve that he needed him.  That he had forgiven Steve for lying.  But the phone sat there, day after day, doing even less that Steve was. 

He dragged himself to his feet and reached for the broom to sweep up the remains of the bag, wishing his other mistakes were as easy to fix.

 

*****

 

“Boss?” Friday said, dragging Tony from his thoughts.  “Got something for you.”

Tony set his tablet down on the breakfast table.  He had spent all night going over government contracts, and he was ready to stab his eyes out with a spork.  The leaps he had made in medical tech from his work on Rhodey’s new exoskeleton would do wonders for returning vets and others who found themselves in those circumstances.  His main focus was to keep the costs low enough that insurance would cover them, but really, in the end, he’d eat the costs himself if it helped wounded soldiers and kids.

“What is it, my gal Friday?” he said.  He stood up and shuffled to the coffee pot, grimacing at the dregs of the batch he’d made somewhere north of four a.m.  

“Email to your private account, boss,” Friday replied. 

“Honey, I get a thousand emails on that account every day,” he said.

“Not your Stark Industries private account, boss.   Your old MIT address.”

Tony paused.  There were a handful of people who had that address.  One of them lived on the floor below him.  One of them died in a second-rate armor in Malibu.  And one of them had left him a couple of months ago.  The only other person who had that address had skived off after Sokovia, trying to bury his big green head in the sand of an island in the southeast Asia. 

“Bring it up.”

A hologram popped up in front of him.

 

_To:[ starkandsnark@mit.edu ](mailto:starkandsnark@mit.edu) _

_From:[ biggreensnickerdoodle@yahoo.com ](mailto:biggreensnickerdoodle@yahoo.com) _

 

_Word is that our mutual Russian friend is looking for help with a chilly, formerly snaky problem.  She should check out Dr. Leonard Samson.  Has ties to the Antichrist, but then again, so do you.  And I still trust you._

 

_B._

 

Heh.  He wondered if anyone had ever checked Ross for a ‘666’ tattoo.   

Either way, Brucie-bear’s lingering trust in Tony warmed what little was left of his heart.  He didn’t know if Bruce knew the whole story, though.  He doubted it, if he was sending word to Tony and not Natasha or Steve.  Tony wanted nothing to do with it, but as a favor to Bruce, he would make sure that the information got to Wakanda.  Maybe it was time to book a meeting with the King.


	2. Crumbling Towers in Beams of Yellow Light

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Tony is done. T'Challa brings home both good news and bad news.

T’Challa surveyed the city that spread out before him, a beating heart thrumming and pulsing with life.  He missed the lush jungles of his home, but New York City was not without its charms.  And the man he was visiting today had all of those charms at his fingertips, though he didn’t seem to want them anymore.

As he turned from the panoramic view, his gaze settled on his former allies.  The War Machine leaned against the bar, looking into his glass of soda as he swirled it around.  His legs were surrounded by an exoskeleton, Stark’s design, of course.  The android, Vision, carried in a tray with a coffee pot and cups.  T’Challa had to smile at him.  He looked like an alien version of Ward Cleaver in his sweater and slacks.

But it was Stark who really captured his attention.  Even when he wasn’t showboating, he filled up the room with his presence.  But now, instead of the flash, Stark was surrounded by an air of gravitas, of wisdom acquired through hard-won experience.  Maybe it was always there, hiding beneath the false glamour.  He had to remember that Stark was a man who went into a cave as a dying playboy wearing a three-piece suit and came out as Iron Man.  He had more masks than all of his former team mates, combined.

“Thank you for coming, your Majesty” Stark said, motioning for T’Challa to have a seat on the large sectional.   “I must apologize for not visiting you at your embassy, but I’m afraid I don’t go out much these days.”

“Not at all, Mr. Stark,” T’Challa said.  “I must admit, I am curious as to why you called me.  After Siberia, I was under the distinct impression that our acquaintance was ended.”  He remembered Stark’s transmission as he took off with Barnes and Rogers in tow.  It had been...unpleasant.

If he expected Stark to flinch or to really give any sort of reaction, he was disappointed.  Stark regarded him with cool eyes and a vague smirk.

“I imagine so, your Majesty,” he said.  “And frankly, I am not doing this of my own volition, but at the behest of a friend.”

T’Challa looked at the other two men, one of whom was pouring out coffee with a benign smile and the other whose arms were crossed in front of him as he glared at T’Challa.

“A large green friend,” Stark clarified.  “One who refused to take sides in this whole situation, and is frankly a better man than any of those involved, present company excluded,” he added, gesturing to Rhodes and Vision.

T’Challa ignored the slight.  “And what does your large green friend wish for you to tell me?” he asked instead.  

“You’ve got a brainwashed wolf amidst your flock,” Stark said.  “One who, from what I’ve seen and heard, is particularly difficult to tend.”

“I have no idea what you’re talking about,” said T’Challa, taking a proffered cup of coffee from Vision.  

“Hmm.  That so?  Well, then I guess you don’t need the information I have,” Stark said.  He rose to his feet.  “I apologize for wasting your time.”

T’Challa grimaced.  Stark wasn’t going to make this easy, but then again maybe the man was due a little petty vengeance.  

“Wait.  Perhaps you are right.  What information can you give us?” he said.

“A name and a warning,” Stark said, sitting back.  “Dr. Leonard Samson might be able to help.  He has experience dealing with this sort of thing.”

“And the warning?”

“Samson has had dealings with Ross before.  Now, my friend assures me that Samson ended up regretting every moment of them, but it’s always possible that Ross is having him watched.  Paranoid old bastard.  Doesn’t trust anyone.”  The last was said with a true smirk.

“I can imagine,” T’Challa said.  He set his cup down on the coffee table and stood.  “Thank you, Mr. Stark.  I hope that one day--”

“Let me stop you right there,” Stark said.  “I did this as a favor to my friend.  Doesn’t change a goddamned thing about how I feel towards you, that bastard Rogers, or any of the rest of them.  Don’t get me wrong, aliens try to take the planet, I’ll be happy enough to have them on my side, but until then, as far as I’m concerned, none of you exist in my world.”  He stood and then walked out of the room, cloaked in an air of finality.

T’Challa watched him leave.  He had to admit, as first a prince and then a king, he wasn’t used to being dismissed.  Then again, he wasn’t used to dealing with Tony Stark, or at least a Tony Stark that wanted nothing from him.  He nodded at the two other men and started towards the elevator, but paused when Vision laid a hand on his arm.

“Forgive me, your Majesty, but there is one other item to take care of,” the android said. 

T’Challa raised an eyebrow.  “And what is that?”

"This was delivered to the tower for one of the former Avengers, from his wife” Vision explained, holding out a large envelope.  “If you have any idea of how to reach him…”

“Of course,” T’Challa said, taking the package.  “It would be my pleasure.”   
  


*****

 

Clint didn’t realize he was crying until tears fell on the papers in his hand.  He’d realized that Laura was pissed at him for running off to join Team Cap, but he hadn’t realized just _how_ pissed until he’d opened the envelope that T’Challa had brought back from New York.

Divorce by Default.

Apparently she could end the marriage without his consent or prior knowledge, if she had no idea where he was.  There was no note, no letter of explanation.  Just the legal paperwork that was going to tear his life apart.  Well, more apart.  

The thing of it was, he couldn’t blame her.  She had been supportive of everything he’d done for S.H.I.E.L.D. and the Avengers, but she’d been so happy when he’d retired.  The kids had been doing better, she had been walking on air.  It had made him happy to make her happy.  And then Cap had called.  And he’d answered.  She warned him to stay out of it, that it wasn’t his fight anymore.  But he’d never been able to leave well enough alone, and he was pretty sure he had a reason that _made_ it his fight.

Clint knew that people would say that he’d only followed Cap out of a sense of friendship.  Thing was, if it was only friendship, he could just as easily sided with Tony.  Tony who had started sending science toys and experiments for Lila and Cooper.  Tony who had sent Nate the entire range of Avengers stuffed toys.  Tony who--

But when Clint read the Accords, there were so many things that bothered him.  He still had nightmares about the things he’d done when Loki had set up shop in his brain.  He thought of the dead agents on the helicarrier, and the civilians in New York who had died during the attack.  There were no provisions in the Accords for things like mind control.  If they’d been living under them during the Battle of New York, Clint would have been stuck some place like The Raft long ago.  He didn’t get how Tony could support something like that.  How he could now support the institutions he’d made a habit of mocking and not trusting.

Then again, Tony hadn’t had to take out men and women he’d considered friends during the fall of S.H.I.E.L.D., either.  Clint had heard him rage about the misuse of his tech on the Insight helicarriers, but he’d been doing so from the safety of his tower.  The only S.H.I.E.L.D. agents Tony knew were the good ones, the ones who weren’t out to take over the world.  Maybe that was why he didn’t get it?

He was interrupted by a hand on his shoulder, though not the one he was expecting.  Natasha always had some sort of sixth sense when it came to Clint and trouble, but the hand on his shoulder was larger, stronger, and used to slinging a shield.

“Clint?” Steve asked, worry evident in his tone and on his face.  “What’s up?”

“T’Challa brought me a present from the Big Apple,” Clint said, handing Steve the papers.

Steve’s face fell even further as he read.  “Can she do this?” he asked.  “You’re not even there.”

“Law says she can.  It’s to let spouses move on when they’ve been left by a deadbeat,” Clint explained.  “So they can move on with their lives.”

Steve sat down next to him and set the papers on the coffee table.  “I am so sorry,” he said.  “This is my fault.”

Clint snorted.  “No Steve, this is all me.  I didn’t have to get involved, but I did.  Following you, well, you’re not that big of a draw.”  He gave Steve a watery chuckle and a smirk.  “The Accords were a bad set of guidelines, ones we had no say in.  We let Ross screw us.  Tony let Ross screw us.”

“I don’t think he meant to,” Steve said.  “Tony said something about amending them once they were passed.  That we’d have to be at the table to make our voices heard.  But who knows if Ross would have allowed that?  I mean, I disagree with being under the thumb of any international body.  They have their own agendas and they don't always have the true best interests of the people in mind.  But Tony seemed to think he could manage it.  Manage _them_."

“Yeah, but maybe we should have let Tony try,” Clint said.  “I can’t believe he would try to hurt us, not really.  Even in Leipzig, you have to admit that his people weren’t there to kill us, they were just trying to stop us.  We were the ones that went for the killing blows.   I mean hell, do you realize how easy it would have been for Scott to kill one of them when he went big?  We let the mission mean more than our friends.”

He saw Steve still, and the blood drain from his face.  “Not just in Leipzig,” he whispered.

“What do you mean?” Clint asked, worry starting to gnaw at his stomach.

“In Siberia, I told you we fought,” Steve said.  “In the end, even then I don’t think he was trying to kill us.  One blast from the unibeam would have vaporized either one of us.  But then Bucky tripped him up and I had him on his back.  I raised my shield, and I was so tempted to just bring it down on his neck.  To end it all.  My only thought was to protect Bucky.”

Clint couldn’t stop the horror from creeping on to his face.  “Steve--”

“Even when he’d just seen the footage of Bucky killing his parents, Tony still didn’t go as far as he could.  And I almost…” Steve broke down, his shoulders shaking with silent sobs.

Clint had nothing to say.  Things were so beyond fucked up that maybe there was nothing he could say.  He was relieved when the hand he had been expecting landed on his shoulder.  He looked up, hoping to see warmth and comfort.  All he saw was sadness.

“You both need to see this,” Natasha said, handing Clint a tablet with a video cued up.  Steve leaned in to him as Clint pushed ‘play’.


	3. No Flags of Truce No Cries of Pity

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you all for the warm reception! I have to admit, the comments and kudos make me want to keep writing.

To:  [ starkandsnark@mit.edu ](mailto:starkandsnark@mit.edu)

From: [ sciencebro4lyfe@gmail.com ](mailto:sciencebro4lyfe@gmail.com)

 

I can honestly say that I’ve never been more proud of anyone than I am of you right now.  Big Green is jumping for joy.  He says to tell you ‘Tin Man is Hulk’s favorite.’  If you have any specific requests for souvenirs from Asia, now is the time to tell me.  Hulk and I are craving schwarma.

 

B.

 

Tony ignored the reporters who were clamoring for a statement in order to read his latest email from Bruce.  He had to admit, some of the finer points of his revenge were all for his big green friend.  Granted, some of them were pointed barbs at the crew in Wakanda, but it was Ross who had born the brunt of it.  

 

The Day Before:

“I don’t like this,” Rhodey said, eyeing the U.N. delegates with mistrust.

“Rhodey, relax,” Tony said, adjusting his cuffs.  “The security here is almost passable.  I’ll be fine.”

“I agree with Colonel Rhodes,” Vision said, surveying the room.  U.N. security forces did not do much good in Vienna.  What makes you think this will be any better?”

“Well, first off, they didn’t have Friday keeping an eye on things,” Tony said.

“Thanks for the vote of confidence, Boss,” Friday piped up.  

“Sure thing, my gal.  Secondly, as far as we know, there are no more Winter Soldiers flitting about to frame,” Tony said, looking at the delegate from Sweden, who waved uncomfortably.  Tony thought she looked familiar, but then he’d always liked tall blondes.

“Anything else?” Rhodey asked with a snort.

“Finally, let’s all remember.  With or without the suit, I’m Iron Man.”

*****

When Tony took the podium, he was addressing the delegates from the 111 remaining signatories to the Sokovia Accords.  Since the incident with Zemo, several nations had removed themselves from the deal, some citing their agreement with Captain America’s actions, and some not so much as agreeing with him as disagreeing with the way it was handled.  

They had spent the last few days listening as the fact finding panel had made their report on the incident, let by Everett Ross.  Tony had checked, no relation to the Secretary of State, so he probably was just useless, not evil.

Tony had listened with a growing sense of disbelief at the the fairy tales woven by Ross and his compatriots.  He’d had a feeling it would go down like this even before entering the chambers--it was hard to get to the truth when over half of the major players weren’t interviewed.

Unwilling to trust anyone but the men to his immediate left and right, Tony had been doing some ‘fact-finding’ of his own.  Being blindsided about his parents’ deaths had forced him to take a closer look at the data Natasha had dumped from S.H.I.E.L.D.  Plus, he’d managed to salvage some information from the remains of Camp Lehigh that now sat on his own private servers.  He’d found some interesting information, facts that might have changed how he approached the whole Accords mess in the first place.  

And it was time he shared his findings.

“Ladies and gentlemen, honored delegates, and members of the press.  I am here to present more information surrounding the inception of the Accords, and their misuse and abuse with respect to the events in Vienna and Leipzig.”

“I learned, years ago in a cave in Afghanistan, that we must all be accountable for our actions.  Mistakes happen, most assuredly, but many times they happen because we are not vigilant, or we enter a situation without the necessary information.  I will admit that the Accords were such a mistake for me.”

“Please do not misunderstand:  I still fully believe in accountability for those who wield powers like my suit or the Super Soldier Serum in Captain America’s blood.  Much is expected of those to whom much is given.  No, my issues stem from the vulnerability of these Accords to manipulation by those with other agendas than protecting the citizens of this world.”

“I had hoped, in the beginning, to bring all sides to the table.  The original Accords were merely meant to be a springboard for the final document.  On our side, after the events in Sokovia, Johannesburg, and Lagos, I felt the Avengers needed time and the aegis of the Accords to rebuild the public’s trust in us, as opposed to continuing to act as we saw fit with no regards to the opinions of others.  From the side of the member nations, I hoped that you would take the opportunity to get to know the Avengers, and judge for yourself if we were to be allowed leeway in making decisions.  I viewed the Accords much like a teenager views a learner’s permit to drive--once we had proven ourselves worthy of your trust again, we would be able to function with minimal oversight.”

“There was, of course, dissent on the side of the Avengers.  There were those who refused to compromise, out of a sense of loyalty or naivete.  Some of my former team mates were just too pig-headed and distrustful to even hear me out.  But I do not regret speaking out for accountability.  The subsequent events merely showed me who and what was worth my time and efforts.”

“They were not completely wrong, though.  What I have learned is that some of the parties to these Accords were looking for a group of attack dogs on a leash, a way to legitimize their power plays with no regards to the people involved.”

Tony stopped to take a sip of water, and let his last statement sink in.

“For this to work, we must all deal in good faith, and have a common purpose.  And our only purpose should be the protection of innocents from both direct and collateral damages.  The Accords, should they survive in any form, must provide a framework that protects all involved, while acknowledging the mistakes made and find ways to mitigate the risks to the citizens of Earth.”

“With that as my guiding principle, I feel that I have no choice but to make two announcements.”

“Firstly, effective immediately, I am announcing not only my retirement, but the retirement of Colonel James Rhodes and the being known as the Vision.  We can not and will not operate under the current  framework, which has been twisted to imprison without due process those who have acted in what they felt was good faith in the protection of citizens.  Should the unthinkable happen and Earth find herself once again under attack from vengeful aliens, we will be there, but we will no longer put ourselves and our freedom under threat from petty tyrants looking to settle a score by manipulating the good intentions of others.”

“Should the delegates wish to amend the Accords to reflect a more moderate approach, we would all be happy to revisit them in the future.  But as they stand, with the current methods of enforcement which were not explained in detail at the time of signing, they are untenable.”

“Secondly, I have information to present about the involvement of the certain parties in the current situation.”  

Tony waited for Vision to hand out copies of the documents that they had prepared.  Unwilling to trust even Mrs. Arbogast with the task, Tony had dragged Rhodey and Vision to a Kinko’s at three in the morning to print, copy, and collate the documents.  The kid behind the counter had been ready to post a picture of the improbable trio on Instagram, but Tony had forked over a wad of cash to get him to at least wait until he was done at the U.N.  Now, Vision was acting as a teacher’s aid, passing out the study lesson for the room full of delegates.

“What you have in your hands is documentation and proof that United States Secretary of State Thaddeus Ross has acted in his own interest and the interest of other parties in the inception and enforcement of the Sokovia Accords.  Starting with his involvement with Senator Stern, a known member of Hydra, in his efforts to remove the Iron Man armor from my possession.  Also, his previously undisclosed involvement in the conditions that led to the accident involving Bruce Banner and the creation of the Hulk, along with proof that Ross framed Banner for the incidents that took place in Harlem, New York.  Acts that, with the inclusion of human experimentation, would have placed Ross in a cell next to the heroes he has been hunting.”

The room erupted.  Ross looked like he was about to have a seizure.

“Please note that a copy of this has been sent to every major news organization in the world.  Take your time reading it.  It’s a page-turner.”

With that, Tony left the podium, with Rhodey and Vision taking their positions at his side.  Not that long ago, he would have left them with a peace sign and a blown kiss.  But that Tony was gone.  This one just stared ahead and dared anyone to get in his way.


	4. The Siege Guns Had Been Pounding All Through the Night

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Tony announces a death of the family. Meanwhile, in Wakanda...
> 
> Also, T'Challa is a quicker study than the rest.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Again, thank you all for the response to this fic. I am overwhelmed.
> 
> I just want to say, nobody in this fic, with the exception of Thunderbolt Ross, is irredeemable. Do they have a lot to learn? Yes. But I believe that with enough work, nothing is broken that cannot be fixed. I mean, you have the ultimate mechanic on the case, right?
> 
> That being said, none of the fixes will be quick. And some of them might not be resolved in the spaces here. But I think there will be enough of a resolution to let me (and hopefully you) rest easy.

A day later, Tony sat in front of a crowd of reporters, reading Bruce’s email.  It sounded like he needed to get the other lab up and running before his Science Bro made it back to NYC.  He set his phone down on the table and gave his attention to the press corps.

“Now.  I’m assuming you’re here to talk about the newest Stark Phone,” he said, giving them a smirk.  There was a smattering of laughter, but mostly they kept their eyes on him, like great white sharks in search of chum.

“Just kidding.  Now let me set a few ground rules.  Anyone not following these rules will be removed from the premises and banned from all other Stark events in the future, got it?”  Heads nodded around the room, some eagerly and some with obvious hesitation.

“Rule number one:  the minute one of you crosses the line of good taste with respect to Colonel Rhodes or Vision, you’re gone.”

“Rule number two:  I will not answer questions having to do with my parents or the rumors that are circulating about their deaths.  That is in the past, and has no bearing on what we’re here to discuss today.”

“Rule number three:  Really, this is me just answering the obvious question up front.  I don’t know where my former team mates are.  I don’t know if they’ve gone to ground as a group or if they’ve split up.  I don’t know, and frankly I don’t care.  The Avengers no longer exist.  As far as I’m concerned, they died on a runway in Germany, along with any plans I have to work with anyone but the two men seated here beside me.  Now, let’s begin.”

 

*****

 

Steve dropped the tablet onto the coffee table.  Any hopes he had that Tony would pick up the little phone he’d sent were gone.  The finality in his former team mate’s voice broke something deep inside of him.  Combined with Tony’s remarks at the U.N. meeting, it was obvious that he no longer had any desire to compromise or search for peace between them.  It wasn’t even anger, not really.  It was cold disregard, and it felt like Steve was back in the ice.

Clint stood up and stalked from the room, followed closely by Natasha.  Steve was left, staring at the image on the tablet.  Tony was thinner.  Harder.  His masks were firmly in place.  Their Tony, who spent hours in his lab trying to keep them safe, who designed high perches for Clint, who built a ballet studio for Natasha, who made sure Steve had reinforced heavy bags, he was gone.  He had been replaced by the man on the screen.  Guarded.  Harsh.  Wary.  And their Tony, their protective, slightly asshole-ish, snarky and wonderful Tony hadn’t died in Leipzig.  

No. 

Steve had killed him in a bunker in Siberia, with the shield that Tony’s father had given him.

 

*****

 

Wanda tried to close her mind to her fellow Avengers, but it was increasingly difficult.  The quiet peace of the Wakandan palace seemed to amplify their thoughts as they anguished over their current situation.  So the youngest Avenger had taken to walking through the gardens outside, as far away from people as she could get.

T’Challa’s people were as courteous as they had to be, fulfilling all of the refugees wants and needs as quickly as possible.  But there was always an air of, if not outright hostility, lukewarm disapproval.  She had asked Sam about it, wondering if it was the fact that she was a light-skinned outsider that made them avoid her if possible.  He had rolled his eyes.

“No.  These people aren’t some backwoods savages who have never seen a white devil before,” he said, irritation clear.  “Maybe you should remember that they were the ones who lost family and friends in Lagos.  Frankly, T’Challa’s edict is the only thing keeping them from tossing us out on our ears.”

She remembered what Vision said about wanting people to see her as he did.  She missed his quiet presence and his kindness.  She remembered the look on his face when she had put him through the floor at the Avengers facility.  And he had still tried to protect her and care for her in Leipzig.  

Maybe what she deserved was to have the world look at her as they did.  When you added up the casualties of her mistakes, maybe she was the monster that the people saw.  Steve didn’t think so, but then he was so unfailingly naive about people.  How he had survived in the war with that part of him intact was a mystery.  

Wanda found a quiet bench next to a flowering tree with bright pink blossoms that swayed in the breeze.  She tipped her head up to the sun and reveled in the warmth on her face as she tried to quiet the thoughts in her head.  It was a good thing she’d been getting better at that, because otherwise she would have missed the dark thoughts that preceded the blow that knocked her to the ground.

She looked up to see a tall, strong Wakandan woman standing over her.  It was one of T’Challa’s Dora Milaje, though not one that Wanda recognized.

“Murderer,” the woman spat, naked hatred on her face.  “Witch, you sit here in repose with no thoughts to the destruction you have caused.”

“No, I--”

“You and your friends have bewitched our king,” the woman continued.  “And now he harbors those who have murdered his people in luxury.”  She raised her staff to bring down another blow, but was stopped by a hand on her wrist.   


“Enough, Nakia,” T’Challa said, anger and sadness warring on his face.

“It will never be enough until there is restitution,” the woman, Nakia, said.  “Stark’s blood money will not bring back my brother.”

“Neither will harming our guest,” T’Challa said.  He moved in between Nakia and Wanda.

“You are weak and bewitched,” Nakia said, pulling her arm away from her king.  “You are undeserving of your throne.”

“Nonetheless, I am your king,” T’Challa said.  His whole demeanor changed.  It was evident from the set of his shoulders to the rebalancing of his weight on the balls of his feet.  He was not prey, he was predator.

“If you continue to shelter them, I have no king,” Nakia said.  She turned and stalked away.

T’Challa relaxed his shoulders, but still remained tensed for action.  He turned to Wanda and offered her a hand.  He pulled her up and they both settled down on the bench.

“My apologies, Ms. Maximoff,” he said.  “Nakia knows better than to attack a guest.  It will not happen again.”

“No, she is entitled to hate me,” Wanda said.  “It was my fault.”

“You made a mistake,” T’Challa said.  “They do happen.  And it was a mistake of control, not of intention this time.”

“This time?”

“When mistakes come from a place of willful intent, of darkness of the spirit, those are the mistakes for which we must atone the most.  You feel guilt for Sokovia and Johannesburg, do you not?  And isn’t it a different kind of guilt?”

“Sokovia, yes.  If I hadn’t aided Ultron…”

“You worked to make restitution for that, of course.  You fought for the Avengers when it came down to it,” T’Challa said.  

“Yes, but I didn’t do anything in Johannesburg,” Wanda protested.  “Banner--”

“You pushed Banner, a being with unparalleled destructive capability,” T’Challa admonished.  “What did you think would happen?”

“I--”

“Those are the mistakes that you have to work the hardest to atone for,” T’Challa said.  “The ones that you made with your eyes open.”

“There was a reason that my father supported the Accords,” T’Challa continued.  “He believed that we are accountable for our actions.  That it is important that the most powerful are held to higher standards, because their mistakes affect so many.  He never intended, nor did Mr. Stark I believe, for it to be about punishment.  It was about making sure that the less powerful had a voice at the table.  It is easy, when you are as powerful as a god, to feel as though those powers give you some sort of wisdom, and that those without power are as children, unable to make the right choices in life.  It is a paternalistic, and frankly colonial way of thinking.”

“But we meant to do the right thing!,” Wanda protested.

“Does that change the result?” T’Challa asked.  “Did you learn anything from the experience?  When you all arrived here, after your time at the Raft, I only saw anger.  No regret, no contemplation.  You all held Stark and his companions accountable for your time in the Raft, but where was _your_ accountability?  You were punished, yes.  But punishment was never the point.   At what point have you all looked at your actions and tried to see where _you_ could have done something different to change the outcome?  Did _you_ do everything you could to prevent this from happening?”

Wanda had no response.  She stared down at her hands as she twisted her rings around her fingers.

“I have offered you haven in my country, and I will stand by that decision,” T’Challa said, standing.  “I only hope you all take this time to not only heal, but to find a path that allows you to use your gifts in a manner which honors those whom you claim to protect.”

  
And with that, he left her to her suddenly too quiet thoughts.


	5. It Took a Day to Build This City

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> BFF Hijinks. Never read the comments on the internet.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'm not sure about this chapter, but I wanted Rhodey and Sam to have a voice as well.

“You want to put _what_ in my _where_?” Rhodey asked.  “Is this some sort of euphemism?  Because I love you like a brother.  And not, like, a Winchester brother.  You’re the Jay to my Silent Bob.  Hetero life mates.”

“Well, considering that I’m half of the pair, technically it would be Bisexual life mates,” Tony said, manipulating a hologram of Rhodey’s nervous system.  “And no, sugar bear, I’m not trying to get you out of your pants.  Well, I kinda have to, but mostly I’m trying to get you out of your exoskeleton.”

“By…”

“Taking a version of Extremis that Helen and I modified and letting it work it’s techno-magic on your spine,” Tony said, an excited grin on his face.  

It was the first time Rhodey had seen that particular smile since before Ultron.  It was the joy of creation without fear--a look that Rhodey had missed.  Tony was at his most brilliant when he was creating things that would help his friends.  He let his imagination go in a way that he couldn’t back when he had been designing weapons or when he was designing items for mass market.  But when he was making something that knew would be in safe and responsible hands?  He let his mad genius run wild.

And that smile was the only reason Rhodey was even thinking of letting Tony have his way.

“What about the fire breathing?  I’m not a dragon or that annoying kid that hangs out with Richards,” Rhodey asked.

“No fire, promise,” Tony said, making an ‘X’ over his heart.  “But I could probably program in some bitching powers, if you’re feeling all experiment-y.”

“No, no experiment-y,” Rhodey said.  “Can I talk to Helen about this too?”

Tony didn’t seem to mind his hesitation.  “Of course!  And Brucie-bear should be turning up soon, too.  He and Helen should be more than enough to convince you.”

“So we’re letting Bruce into the clubhouse?” Rhodey asked.  “Are you sure about that?  He might not have taken up arms, but do you really think he would have been on our side?”

“See, here’s the thing.  I think Bruce would have agreed with a lot of the ideas behind the Accords,” Tony explained.  “Now, he would have balked at the whole Ross bit of it, but that’s because he has developed a fine nose for bullshit.  But he’s like me in that he has a long record of being very aware of the consequences of his actions.”

“I don’t know, Tones.  He runs away rather than taking any sort of accountability,” Rhodey said with a frown.  “Running away isn’t the answer.”

"Trust me, he wasn’t running away from accountability,” Tony assured him.  “From his perspective, he was carrying a live nuclear warhead out of a population center.  It’s his ultimate version of accountability.  You have to understand that Bruce, well…”

“Every minute of every day, Bruce has to think about accountability.  He doesn’t get a vacation.  He doesn’t get down time.  He has to be vigilant every moment,” Tony explained.  “After Johannesburg, I thought I was going to walk in on him trying to find a way to end it.  He’d tried a gun before, did I ever tell you that?   Big Green spit out the bullet.”

“So Bruce, he’s stuck.  One hand, he is terrified of hurting someone.  On the other hand, that big heart of his won’t let him not help people.  So he tries to find a place where he can help.  Where he can make up for the destruction that Hulk has caused.  Usually, he thinks that place is as far away from civilization as possible.”

“Okay,” Rhodey said, nodding.  “I guess I can understand that.  “Why is he coming back, though?  New York is still full of a lot of innocent civilians.”

“Because he’s starting to realize that maybe the Hulk isn’t the threat that he’s always assumed he is,” Tony said.  “Before Ultron, he and Natasha were getting pretty close to having the Hulk issue managed.  He was a full member of the team, he listened to strategy, and saved all of us on more than one occasion.  Hell, I once found him standing over a litter of kittens, protecting them from falling debris.”

Rhodey snorted at the mental image.  

“He has worked so hard, both of them have, to do good.  I think he’s finally realized that it doesn’t mean he has to do it alone,” Tony said, shrugging.

“And you trust him?”

“I do.  And I owe him,” Tony said.  “When I asked him to trust me when we were creating Vision, he could have walked away.  Hell, any of the others would have walked away.  But he trusted me to get it right.  He placed his faith in me, and he hasn’t given me any reason to regret it.  He deserves the same from me.”

“Awww.  Look at you,” Rhodey said, grinning.  “There’s still a heart underneath all of the large-and-in-charge badass we’ve been seeing lately.”

Tony sighed and gave his friend a pained grin.  “It’s there.  But the guest list is pretty damned exclusive these days.”

“That’s okay, Tones,” Rhodey said, clapping a hand on Tony’s shoulder.  “I don’t like hanging out with the riff raff anyways.”

 

*****

 

Sam knew that you should never read the comment section on the internet.  The casual racism and sexism alone were pretty revolting.  But there was also the rare time when people were brutally honest in the comments in a way that they never would have been comfortable being straight to your face.

T’Challa had provided a relatively secure method of connecting to the internet, promising that they could keep up with the goings on in the world and not have to worry that there was some sort of CSI Cyber bullshit tracking their every move.  Sam figured the only ones who could track them at this point were Stark and his AI, and Stark seemed pretty ready to just write them all off.  

He’d only wanted to cheer Steve up.  He’d looked for people who stood behind Cap and were willing to take a stand for what was right.  And sure, those people were on there, and some of them were nice, normal, seemingly sane people who trusted in Cap to make good decisions.  But there were also the people who backed Cap up because ‘no damned dirty foreigner is going to tell Captain ‘Murica what to do’.  Sam didn’t think Cap would want to see those.

He was surprised at the amount of normal, law-abiding citizens who came out in support of the Accords, though.  These were people who, while they appreciated that the Avengers would protect them when the aliens attacked or the murder-bot tried to end the world, were still a little hesitant to just sit back and nod their heads at every choice the Avengers made.  

He clicked on a tweet that led him to a forum for people affected by the actions of enhanced ‘heroes’.  he was gratified to find a whole thread dedicated to talking about the good that he, personally, had been able to do.  One woman had dressed her youngest child as Falcon, complete with wings and everything.  He grinned as he clicked the bookmark button.  

Once he left that thread, however, he soon discovered a section that he probably should have guessed was there.

John H. had lost his car in the Battle of New York.  He and his family had been visiting the city for his daughter’s tenth birthday, and Hulk had used their family sedan to take out a Chitauri sleigh.  Geico didn’t cover acts of large green rage monsters, so John was having to work an extra job to help replace the car.  He missed being able to tuck his kids in at night, but there were just things you had to do.

Angela R. had worked at a coffee shop near the Triskelion in D.C.  When a piece of one of the helicarriers had crashed into her workplace, she and two others had been trapped for six hours before they were rescued.  She said she was really lucky she was young enough to still be on her parents’ insurance, so she was able to afford the help she needed to deal with the PTSD she was suffering.

Dikotsi R. lost his father in Johannesburg.  The old man had been in the market buying fruit when he was caught up in the battle between Iron Man and the Hulk.  He had received a letter from Mr. Stark, apologizing.   He’d also been given a job with the Maria Stark Foundation crews that were sent in to rebuild so many of the damaged buildings.  He missed his father every day, though.  And he believed that something needed to be done to keep the senseless death from happening again.

On and on the stories went.  Sam read as many as he could before he had to move on.  He couldn’t show these to Steve.  Or Wanda.  Or any of the others.  He wondered if Stark had seen these.  If that had been one of the things that had led him to support the Accords.  If so, he’d never shown the rest of them.  

His clicked back to the search results and found a veterans forum.  The image on the splash page was Colonel Rhodes in his Air Force uniform.  Sam remembered when he’d first met the man.  Rhodes was a legend in the Air Force, especially among the younger African American members.  No one could say that he hadn't risen to his rank on his own merits and bravery.  And while some folks grumbled underneath their breath about how being the Stark liaison hadn’t hurt either, most people thought that dealing with the younger Stark was enough to have earned Rhodes a couple of stars.

When Steve had introduced him to Rhodey at one of the parties that Tony had thrown at the tower, he had to admit he’d been a little star-struck.  Not as bad as the giddy feelings he’d had when he met Cap, but pretty damned close.  Rhodes had a calm, competent air about him that spoke of experience and loyalty--the ultimate airman, and Sam was constantly reminding himself to stand up straight and look him in the eye.  Until, of course, he heard Rhodes tell Stark to shut the fuck up and hand him another beer.  Just like that, the tension had been broken, and suddenly there was a very real and very approachable man in front of him.

Rhodes had taken Sam under his wing, no pun intended.  Sam wouldn’t say they were close, but they had shared many an eye roll when dealing with their respective hard-headed best friends.  Seeing Rhodes on the field that day, with blood and the wrecked suit, had been devastating.  So much so that he didn’t even begrudge the shot that Stark took at him.

When he clicked through to the forums, that was when it all really started to sink in.  The first thread he clicked on was one arguing that Colonel Rhodes should have been in charge of the Avengers in the first place, not the so-called ‘Captain America’.  

 

 

> _Captain Carol Danvers_
> 
> _Cape Canaveral_
> 
> _Let me preface this by saying that I don’t dispute Captain Rogers’ service record or his skills.  But can someone please explain why they have a man who has less than ten years of active field experience lead the Avengers, while Colonel Rhodes (a gifted leader with twice the field experience and a working diplomat’s knowledge of the current geo-political climate) is left to follow him around?  I guarantee you that if Rhodes had been the field commander, a lot of this could have been avoided.  Rogers doesn’t seem like the type to listen to anyone if what they’re saying goes against his worldview.  We are expected to believe that he is so up-to-date on current affairs that he can magically know what’s right without input from any of the world’s leaders and intelligence organizations?  His own people? Please.  I would bet good money it’s just an echo chamber with all of those that chose to follow him.  ‘Sure Cap, whatever you say Cap, you must know best, Cap.’ Ugh._

 

There were echoes of agreement with Captain Danvers all through the thread.  The general consensus was that Captain Rogers, while an admirable man, was hopelessly naive about the world, and was clinging to an outdated paradigm about the sharing of power amongst the nations of the world.  

Sam closed his browser window, unable to read anything more.  He told himself that these people didn’t know what they were talking about.  That they didn’t know Steve, and what an inspiring leader he was.  But a little voice inside his head asked if he had really questioned Steve’s methods enough.  Was he so used to following orders that he followed the man blindly down an unnecessarily violent and damaging road?

Never read the comments on the internet.

Because sometimes the truth hurts.

 


	6. We Walked Through Its Streets in the Afternoon

Bruce looked up at the only real home he’d had in the past decade.  He didn’t bother looking over his shoulder for the Army.  He didn’t worry about people recognizing him and calling the cops.  He was home.  

Of course, the family wasn’t all home.  Yet.  

Bruce had seen the news reports, and he knew that things had gotten ugly.  But there was a not small part of his heart that hoped that nothing had happened that couldn’t be fixed.  His biological family had crumbled due to abuse and anger.  He prayed that his new family survived.

There was a new receptionist in the lobby, and she frowned when he asked for Tony.  But a quick call up to the penthouse changed that into a smile as she pointed the way to Tony’s private elevator.  Bruce dropped his bags on the floor of the lift and reached for the buttons, but he was stopped by a voice from above.

“No worries, Doc,” a vaguely familiar Irish lilt said.  “Boss Man is in the lab, waiting for you.”

“Thank you,” he said, with an uncomfortable smile.  He’d been expecting Jarvis’ calm voice, another casualty of their mistakes.  One that couldn’t be fixed.  “I don’t think we’ve been properly introduced.

“Ah, yes.  I’m Friday, Doc,” the voice said.  “I have the dubious privilege of keeping the boss from blowing himself up these days, Heaven help us.”  

Bruce’s smile turned into a grin.  Apparently Tony had left the tact and discretion module out of this AI.  “I remember how hard that is,” he said.  “But seeing as the tower is still standing, you must be pretty exceptional at your job.”

“Thanks Doc,” Friday replied.  He could hear the tiniest bit of preening in her voice.  “I will say, I’m glad to have reinforcements.  Only so much I can do without opposable thumbs. ”

“Happy to help,” Bruce said.   The elevator stopped on the lab floor, and Bruce reached for his bags.

"Don’t worry about that, Doc,” Friday said.  “I’ll have one of the bots take them to your quarters.”

“I still have quarters?” Bruce asked.

“Boss wouldn’t let anyone touch’em,” Friday replied.  “Said he knew you’d be back when you had things sorted in that big beautiful brain of yours.  Welcome home, by the way.”

Bruce felt something prickle in his eyes.  “Thanks Friday.  It’s good to be home.”

 

***

 

Dr. Leonard Samson paged through the battered red notebook in front of him.  As he studied the notes from the Winter Soldier program, it was hard to keep his lunch down.  A cool, detached part of his brain couldn’t help but be impressed at the way that Hydra had systematically destroyed James Buchanan Barnes and built The Winter Soldier in his stead, using a combination of methods that turned his neuro-pathways into a spaghetti bowl worthy of the worst freeways in Los Angeles.

He had arrived in Wakanda following a heartfelt entreaty from Captain America.  While he would have normally said no(he was personally glad that something like the Accords were in place), that entreaty had been preceded by an email from Bruce Banner.  Samson had helped Bruce try to come to some sort of accord with the Hulk, and the two men had developed a level of trust and respect between them.  So when Bruce asked, Samson felt obligated to help.

“Found anything useful, Doctor?”

Samson turned and saw Natasha Romanov standing at the door the the office that King T’Challa had provided.

“I’m alternately horrified and impressed at the lengths they went to in order to subjugate Mr. Barnes,” Samson said.  He held up the red journal.  “This is quite possibly the scariest thing I’ve ever read, and it’s not fiction.”  He set the journal down on the desk.  

“It wouldn’t have worked on anyone without a version of the serum,” he said.  “The physical strain would have killed anyone else.  Apparently, when the brain enters cryogenic sleep and then is brought out of it, certain brain functions come online before others.  It’s different than a regular sleep, or even a comatose state.  More like a highly susceptible hypnotic state.  Because they were able to repeatedly freeze and then animate Mr. Barnes, they were able to manipulate his brain in ways that they couldn’t have with a normal subject.”

“That must be why the other Winter Soldiers could only be conditioned once they the version of the serum in their bodies,” Natasha said.  

Samson nodded.  “Of course, they didn’t have to be treated as many times, as they were already on board with Hydra’s plans.  Mr. Barnes, however, fought it as best as he could.”  ‘The poor bastard,’ was unspoken, but there.

“Does this give you any ideas of how to proceed?” Natasha asked.

“Well, I’m wondering if we could do something similar,” Samson said.  “He is currently in cryo-stasis.  If we were to bring him out, with the right preparation, perhaps we could begin to manipulate his brain to remove the triggers that Hydra implanted.”

“But how could we be sure we’re doing the right thing?” Natasha asked.

Samson took a deep breath.  “Well, that’s the tricky part.  Have you read about Tony Stark’s Binarily Augmented Retro Framing technology?” he asked.

Natasha dropped her head and stared at the floor.  “Tricky is an understatement.”

 

***

 

No matter what Brucie-bear said, Tony was not turning into a mole person.  He left the tower plenty.  He’d gone to the U.N., that dodgy Kinko’s on 45th and Lexington, and…

Well.

Maybe he didn’t get out that often.  He was tired of people asking about Captain Assface and his buddies.  He was tired of avoiding the accusing stares of the citizens.  He was just tired.

Bruce wouldn’t hear of it though.  He seemed to think Tony needed to get out in the sun every once in while.  He kept going on about rickets and cognitive impairment and mold as he pushed Tony, Rhodey, and Vision into the elevator.  Plus, he said, there was a guy in Central Park that had the best bacon kimchi fried rice.  And a donut truck.  Tony never could say no to a donut.

He had laughed uncontrollably when Bruce handed them all ball caps and sunglasses as low-effort disguises.  He was Tony Stark and he could make anything look good, but the combination of Vision’s sweater vest, the ‘disguise’ and his un-camouflage-able skin made him even more visible.  The knowing grin on Bruce’s face told him that he’d fallen for the other man’s trap.

They’d raided a couple of food carts and found an out-of-the-way spot near Belvedere Castle.  Bruce had brought a blanket, so they all sat down on the ground and let the breeze flow over them.  It was maybe the first time since Sokovia that Tony had been completely relaxed.  There was no Thunderbolt Ross hanging over his head.  There was no Scarlet Witch staring at him in accusation.  No Steve plotting with Sam in hushed tones in the corner.  

The weather at that moment was perfect.  Sunny and breezy with just a hint of summer heat.  It couldn’t stay that way--even now he could see the clouds building up in the east.  But what mattered in that moment was Tony and the people who understood him best, having bacon kimchi fried rice and jelly donuts and enjoying the sunshine.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you all for the support and love. I have to admit, it's been hard to keep going when I read some of the vitriol directed at some of the characters in the comments. I've stated before, none of these guys are villains. Both sides, even though they may have made some bad decisions, have valid points. I'm a huge Stony shipper, and I love both Steve and Tony individually as characters. All of the comments made in the fic, by our main characters or by secondary characters, are meant to convey individual perspectives of citizens in this world, and I can say that as the author, I don't always agree with those perspectives, even those who are on 'Team Iron Man'. So I hope you keep enjoying the fic, but be warned that every character is going to have to face their mistakes at some point. I'm not doing this to vent my anger at Team Cap. I'm trying to take where we were left at the end of Civil War, and help those characters find some resolution.
> 
> Except for General Ross. Fuck that guy ;)


	7. As I Returned Across the Fields I'd Known

Steve found everyone already in the conference room, sitting quietly.  Dr. Samson sat in front of a laptop, furiously clicking away, brow furrowed in concentration.  When Steve finally sat down at the opposite end of the table, someone killed the lights and Samson looked up.  

“Oh, well then.  Guess we’re ready to get started,” he said, clicking his mouse.  “I’ve been studying the documents that King T’Challa and Ms. Romanov were able to secure with respect to the conditioning that Hydra performed on Mr. Barnes.”  He waved the red journal around.  “And I think I might have a possible pathway to a solution.”

He set the journal down and clicked the mouse again.  A hologram of a human brain popped up over the middle of the table.  Several of the Avengers jumped, but those that had worked with Tony were used to such things.

“Here is a normal human brain.  Or, relatively normal.  I used Mr. Lang,” Samson said, spinning the brain around.  Sam and Clint chuckled while Scott looked offended.  Samson looked up.  “Oh, I meant, uh, not knowing how his suit and the Pym particles might have affected his brain function and chemistry.”  He blushed.

“Now, here,” Samson continued, shaking it off and zooming in, “along the edge of the cerebral cortex on both sides, is the hippocampus.  The hippocampus is vital for the formation of short-term memories, and in taking those short-term memories and creating long-term memories.  Easiest example is that if you look at the brains of patients with Alzheimer's, you’ll note that there is early and significant damage to the hippocampus.  The tissue damage makes it impossible for them to form new short-term memories, and prevents them from accessing the long-term memories as well.”

“Now, from what I’ve been able to decipher from the documentation, Hydra’s neuroscientists originally tried manipulating Mr. Barnes’ hippocampus using a combination of external stimuli and drugs, starting off in a lucid state and then applying pain stimuli in concert with injections.”

Steve knew it would be bad, but he felt as if he was about to throw up.  He wasn’t sure he could sit through this.  He remembered what Bucky had been through at the Hydra compound during the war, and the thought that something so much worse had occurred to his friend, his brother, just shattered him.

“What they found is that they were able to get temporary results in this manner.  He would be somewhat obedient for a certain period of time, but then would relapse and his original personality would begin to reassert itself.  Now, remember that their technology was nothing like what we have now, but even then they were able to see that the damage to his hippocampus was healing.  Due to the serum in his blood, he was actually regenerating brain tissue.”

“When they originally put him in cryo-stasis, it was to preserve his body while they conducted more research.  The went through dozens of test subjects, trying to find a more efficient method of controlling him, one that did not rely upon damaging tissue that would ultimately heal and undo their work.  When they had any sort of promising result, they would bring him out of cryo-stasis and try it out.  Ultimately, it would fail, and they’d put him back under.”

Everyone at the table had a look of horror on their face.  Steve stood up, certain that he was about to have to make a run for the nearest bathroom.  He really shouldn’t have eaten a large breakfast.

“In 1988, they made an accidental discovery.  One of the techs, a Nikolai Sorokin, made a mistake.  He brought him to the lab too soon after waking him up.  Mr. Barnes’ brain was still hovering between stasis and not.”

“Now, the human brain’s operating state is different at different times.  Our brain while we sleep functions differently than when we are awake.  The functional state when the brain is comatose is different still.  Different areas are ‘awake’ if you will.”

“What Hydra found is that the functional state of a serum-enhanced brain, coming out of stasis, is, very particularly unique.  And that uniqueness allowed them to make some very specific changes to Mr. Barnes.”

“Like what?” Steve asked.  He sat down again.

“Do you know much about computers, Captain?” Samson asked.  Steve shrugged.  “It’s an imperfect metaphor in this case, but until you all acquire both neuroscience and psychiatry degrees, this is the best I can come up with,” Samson said.

“Basically, coming out of cryo-stasis, the brain functions like a computer reboot.  It’s physically resetting and having to bring every system back online,” Samson explained.  “That’s why you have to reboot a computer whenever you add new programs or make operating system updates; the reboot goes back and looks at the code and adjusts its operation based on whatever is stored in its operation code.”

“So what Hydra found, is that if they could insert the conditioning as the brain was coming back online, they could manually override the existing ‘code’ in Mr. Barnes’ brain.  And then when the brain came fully back online, he was primed for whatever they wanted to do.  They basically took root access to his mind, something they could never do to someone without the serum.”

“Jesus,” Clint said.  He stood up and left the room.  Steve remembered that of them all, Clint had the most intimate and recent experience with mind control.  Natasha had made some comments about her past that made Steve think she was acquainted with it as well, but Clint still had nightmares about what he’d done under Loki’s control.

Natasha looked like she wanted to follow him, but she stayed in her chair.  She nodded to Wanda, who went in search of the archer.

“So how do you plan to fix it?” Sam asked.  

“And this is where it gets awkward,” Natasha grumbled, fidgeting in her chair.

“There is a new technology that was developed to help trauma survivors go back and observe their memories,” Samson said.  “It hooks up to the hippocampus and creates a link between it and an external framework.  Then the user can reference the memory and the framework to revisit the memory in a palpable way to find a resolution."  He had a distinctly uncomfortable look on his face.  Steve understood immediately.

“Tony’s technology,” Steve said.

“Yes,” Samson confirmed.  “The Binary Augmented Retro Framing, or B.A.R.F. technology.”

Steve thought he might cry.  “He never did come up with a better name for it,” he said, resting his head on the table.  “If that’s our only option, then there’s nothing we can do.”

“You don’t know that, Steve,” Natasha said.  “Let me go and talk to him.  Maybe I can make him see reason.”

“You don’t understand,” Steve said.  “It’s not that I think he won’t.  It’s that I know he will.  He’ll do it, and it will eat him up inside.  He’s different now, but he seems to be healing.  Bringing this back, it’ll reopen all of those scars and make him bleed out again.  I can’t ask him to do that.”  

“Steve, you can’t keep going on like this,” Natasha said.  She scooted her chair closer to him and took his hand.  “You drift around here and I can’t tell if you’re mourning Bucky or Stark.  It’s eating you alive and it’s killing us to see it.  You deserve some peace of mind too.”  

Steve wasn’t so sure that peace was what he deserved.

Samson cleared his throat.  “Let me talk to Bruce, get the lay of the land so to speak.  I’ll visit them in New York, and see if perhaps Tony will train me to use the technology.  We don’t have to tell him who it’s for.”

“No,” Steve said, putting the full weight of any command he still had left in his voice.  “I will not trick him or lie to him again.  I’ve done enough of that.”

“Steve--”

“No, Natasha.  If you and Samson want to go talk to him, I don’t like it but I won’t stop you.  But you have to tell him the truth,” Steve said, eyes watering.  “I can’t lie to him again.”

The room was quiet for long minutes.  Finally, he heard Natasha sigh.

“Ok.  We’ll tell him the truth.  When can you be ready to leave, Doc?” she asked.

“Within the hour, I would think,” Samson replied.

“Your Majesty?  Can we borrow a ride?” she asked, turning to the until now silent king.

“I will accompany you as well,” T’Challa said.  “I don’t know that I will be of help, but I have other business to attend to at the U.N.”

“Good.  Gentlemen, pack your gear.  Wheels up in an hour.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Whew. This chapter was a beast to write, even though it's not that long. I tried to do some research and be as accurate as possible with brain stuff, but at some point you just have to hang a lantern on it, you know? And yes, what we learn here will have more ramifications than just Bucky.


	8. I Recognized the Walls That I Once Made

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sorry that it's been so long. It's not abandoned by any means. I've just been swamped and have had a hard time concentrating. So here are two chapters as thanks for your patience :)

Tony had replaced the Avengers logo with his ‘Stark’ logo.  She should have expected it, but the sight hit her right in the solar plexus.  

When Samson had reached out to Bruce, they had been surprised to find that he was already safely ensconced in the tower, back at work in his old lab.  He had agreed to meet Samson for lunch to discuss his findings with regard to the Winter Soldier, but he had stopped short of inviting him up to his lab.  So Natasha sat with Samson and T’Challa in one of the king’s town cars, waiting for Bruce to exit the building.

The good doctor stumbled out of the building a few moments later.  He adjusted his glasses and looked around until he spotted the car.  He crossed the sidewalk quickly and nodded at the driver, who opened the door for him.  Bruce slipped into the back, and if he was surprised to see Natasha and T’Challa, he didn’t show it.

“Bruce!” Samson said, extending his hand.  “Thank you so much for meeting with us.”

“Leonard,” Bruce said, shaking Samson’s hand.  “I don’t know how I can be of help, but I’m willing to hear you out.”  His voice was distantly polite.  

“Of course, of course,” Samson said, nodding.  “I think I’ll be able to explain it.  If anyone knows about dealing with a secondary, violent personality in their head, it’s you.”

Bruce’s brow wrinkled, unhappiness settling on his face.  Samson seemed to have realized that he had offended.

“I’m sorry.  I know you’ve worked hard to get him under control,” Samson said.

“It’s not control,” Bruce said.  “Nothing got better until I stopped trying to control him.  And frankly, if that’s the limit of your understanding, perhaps I’m not the guy you need to talk to.”

Natasha winced internally.  Samson grimaced.  T’Challa rolled his eyes and took over.

“Dr. Banner, what I believe Dr. Samson is trying to say is that you, of all of us, understand the difficulty of resolving two distinct personas sharing one body.  In your case, you seem to have successfully worked with the Hulk in order to harness both halves for good.  We would appreciate your insight on helping Sergeant Barnes do the same,” T’Challa said.

“Ever the politician, your majesty,” Bruce said, with a wry grin that didn't reach his eyes.

“In this case, perhaps just a tad more tactful,” T’Challa said, returning his smile.  

“So all you need is my input?” Bruce said.  “Nothing else?”

“Well,” Samson began.  “We need your help on a more delicate matter.”

“Delicate?” Bruce asked.

“We would like you to act as an ambassador to Tony,” Natasha said.  “His technology could be the key to helping Barnes.”  She wouldn’t lie to Bruce.  

Bruce laughed.  And he didn’t stop for several minutes.

“You do realize that you all betrayed Tony, don’t you?” he asked.  “You abandoned him after saying that you had his back and agreed with him.  Cap and his buddy nearly beat him to death.  You, your majesty,” Bruce sneered, “you left him to die in Siberia.  If Vision hadn’t found him…”

“Bruce,” Natasha began.

“You’re asking him to claw open the wounds that are just starting to heal in order to help the man that he watched strangle his mother,” Bruce said.  “Just to help Steve’s friend.  Steve, who hasn’t been much of a friend to Tony at all.”

“It wasn’t Bucky’s fault.  He wasn’t in control,” Natasha said, pleading and silently begging Bruce to understand.

“I know what it’s like to have to face the man you watched kill your mother,” Bruce said.  His voice was flat and steady.  “And then to be forced to help them even when it’s the last thing you want to do.  I will not do that to Tony.  I won’t trade on his guilt and shitty self-esteem in order to help you.  I’m sorry you thought I would.”  He opened the car door and stepped back onto the sidewalk.  

“Bruce, please,” Natasha begged.  

“No.  You were all so quick to blame him for everything.  You blamed him for Ultron, when I had just as much of a hand in it.  Steve attacked him on the word of that witch, who had been screwing around in our heads, without even giving him a chance to explain what we were doing.  You all blamed him for the Accords, when you were stupid if you didn’t see where this has been headed for years.  But it’s always Tony’s fault, right?”  Bruce gripped the door and looked like his was biting back a snarl.

“But the moment you need something, you’re back.  You’ve got a sugar daddy paying your way now,” he said, gesturing to T’Challa, “so you don’t need his money.  But you still need his tech.  No.  Just no.”  

Natasha watched the green swirl in his eyes and flush across his skin.

“I’m sorry, Bruce,” she said.  She hadn’t meant to make him angry, truly.

“I’m really not the one that deserves an apology, Agent Romanov,” Bruce said.  And with that, he turned and left.

 

Tony watched the green flicker across Bruce’s skin as he stomped into the kitchen.

“What’s wrong, snickerdoodle?” he asked.  “I really hope we don’t have to reset the ‘Days Since Last Hulk-out’ calendar.”

Bruce grimaced and picked up his teakettle.  He filled it and set it on the stove, turning the heat up on high.  He collapsed into a chair across from Tony and dropped his head onto the table.

“C’mon, apple dumpling.  Tell me all about it,” he urged, reaching over to pet Bruce’s fluffy hair.  “I’m assuming it had to do with your lunch date with the kitty cat and the spider-lady.”

Bruce’s head popped up.  “You knew…”

Tony rolled his eyes.  “Brucie, of course I knew.”

“You’re not angry with me?” Bruce asked, his voice suddenly small and unsure.

“Bruce, c’mon.  I’m not Captain Stick-up-his-ass.  Dissent is allowed.  I don’t have to like or agree with your friends, and I don’t have the right to ask you not to see them.  I’m not your boss.  I’m your Science-Bro?”  The last was said with a shit-eating grin.  “I thought you knew that.  All I ask is that you’re honest about it.”  The grin fell off of his face.  Honesty had been in short supply amongst the Avengers.  Tony wouldn’t go through that again, even for Bruce.

Bruce sighed.  “Sorry.  I just… The request came from Leonard Samson.  I knew they wanted to ask about Bucky, but I thought they only wanted to discuss me and the Other Guy.”

Tony nodded.  “But they wanted you to butter me up for the B.A.R.F. tech,” he said.  “To solve their Winter Soldier problem.”

“Yeah,” Bruce said.  

“Makes sense,” Tony said.  “It was created to help me deal with traumatic memories, and that guy must have a boatload of them.”

“How are you so calm about this,” Bruce asked.  Tony could see him clenching his jaw.

“Relax, Butterbean,” Tony said.  “Here’s the thing.  With a little distance, I get that Barnes wasn’t responsible.  And if Rogers had explained it to me even at the beginning of this little drama, I might have been able to process that and not lose my shit.  The mess in Siberia?  Could have been, if not avoided, at least mitigated if he had been honest.”

“But he wasn’t.  And for my part, I own that I reacted out of rage.  Maybe if I hadn’t been using the B.A.R.F. on my last memories of my mom, if it hadn’t been so fresh on my mind, I could have shaken it off.  But that’s not what happened.   And Zemo, well, that asshole was brilliant.  He had us all figured out.  He knew just the Jenga piece to pull out to make it all tumble to the ground.”

“Tony, you did nothing wrong,” Bruce insisted.

“That’s not even close to being correct,” Tony admitted.  He wasn’t immune to introspection.  He could see the bigger picture, but sometimes he got lost in it.

“I could have done more to explain just how scared people are of us,” Tony continued.  “I thought I could protect them from the ugliness that was out there.  But I guess I don’t have a good track record with protecting people.”  Happy laid up in the hospital.  Pepper falling.  The Insight Helicarriers.  Sokovia.  Rhodey falling.  The list just got longer and more bloody. 

“Bullshit,” Bruce said.  “Absolute bullshit.  That’s Howard talking.  That’s Steve talking.  That’s Natasha talking.”  He stood up and moved to the chair next to Tony.

“Eight million people.  You protected them when you flew that nuke through the portal,” Bruce said.  “How many people have you saved by taking down A.I.M.?  Stane?”

“Yeah, but let’s not forget my role in creating those problems in the first place,” Tony said.  “Well, not the Chitauri.  That’s all Loki’s daddy issues.”

“Tony, people are responsible for their own actions.  Just because you experience a setback, be it professional or personal, that doesn’t mean you don’t have the choice in how you deal with it.  If every person that experienced tragedy used it as an excuse to become a villain, the world would be overrun with them,” Bruce said.  

“I know that,” Tony said.  He sighed.  “But Brucie, that doesn’t mean I’m absolved.  That’s what the Accords were meant to do--help us take responsibility for our actions.  Force us to find a better way.  Make us really think about collateral damage and take responsibility for it, no just call it the cost of doing business.  Once you start doing that, you’ve stopped being one of the good guys.”

“But you can’t let the fear of it it cripple you,” Bruce said.  “And you can’t wallow in the guilt.”  The kettle began to whistle and Bruce stood.

“I’m not wallowing,” Tony snapped.  “I’m facing the things I did.  Trying not to do them again.”

  
“I know, Tony,” Bruce said, laying his hand on Tony’s shoulder.  “But there are things that you could have changed, and things you couldn’t have changed.  Take ownership of your faults, but let others take account of theirs.  God knows there’s plenty to go around.”

 


	9. I Had to Stop in My Tracks for Fear

“How did it go?” Clint asked as Natasha slouched into the room.  She collapsed onto the sofa and laid her head back.

“Well, we didn’t have to worry about lying to Tony,” she said.  

“Oh?”

“Yeah, he has a big angry green protector who really isn’t happy with us right now,” Natasha explained.  “I never even got to see Stark.”

“Bruce is back at the tower?” Clint asked.  They had known he was back in New York, but all things considered, they weren’t sure if he and Tony had come to some sort of agreement about the Accords.

“Yes he is.  And he is not best pleased with what occurred in his absence,” Natasha said.  “Can I ask you something?”

“Always,” Clint said, wrapping an arm around her and tucking her head onto his shoulder.

“Why do you think Steve was so willing to trust Wanda and believe the worst about Tony?” she asked.  “Bruce said that Steve attacked him on Wanda’s say-so.”

That was a difficult question.  He had been in the building, but he had come into the conversation late.  “Tony hadn’t been showing the best judgement at that point,” he said, hedging.  “He created Ultron and never told any of us.”

“Not quite true,” Natasha said.  “Bruce was involved.  They are two of the smartest men on the planet, and Tony was pretty adamant that something else had to have happened.  I mean, in theory, Ultron would just be a step up from JARVIS and the Iron Legion.  It was the Mind Stone that really screwed things up.”

“We didn’t know that at the time, to be fair,” Clint said.

“True, but Tony has had our backs for years,” Natasha said.  “Why didn’t we give him the benefit of the doubt?  Especially since Wanda had been playing with our brains.”

Clint stiffened.  He knew that Wanda had made some bad choices, but she was trying to do better.  “She’s just a kid, Nat.”

“She’s old enough for Steve to take her into the field,” Natasha said, dismissing the argument.  “And she was old enough to feel entitled to telling Steve not to trust his teammate, and to have him listen.  How in the hell did she think she knew so much about Tony to begin with?”

They were interrupted by a noise at the door.  The young woman in question looked stricken as she came into the room.

“In Sokovia, when you all attacked Strucker’s base.  I saw his mind then,” she said, sitting down on an ottoman.  

Natasha sat up.  “Saw it or manipulated it?” she asked.

Wanda curled in on herself.  “Both,” she said.  “Before he took the staff, I saw his fears and played into them.”

“What fears?” Clint asked.  His ever-present ball of dread that sat in his stomach grew.

“He…” Wanda hesitated.

“What.  Fears?” Natasha asked, in a voice that brooked no dissent.

“He fears what is coming.  That you will not be enough,” Wanda said.  “What he saw in the portal in New York haunts him.”  Her eyes darted away.

“I’m sure it does,” Natasha said.  “But that’s not all.”  The silent ‘tell me the rest’ hung in the air.

“He saw you all dead as the result.  And Steve…”

“Don’t make me ask again,” Natasha snarled.

“Steve told him he hadn’t done enough.  That it was his fault,” Wanda said, softly.

Natasha stood up and began pacing.  “So, the man with the biggest guilt complex in the world has a vision where his friend and leader tells him he’s not enough.  That he could do more.  So he tries to do more, and we blame him for an accident.”   She stopped and hung her head.  “Jesus.  This would have been nice to know at the time.”

“Why didn’t Tony tell us?” Clint asked.  “How were we supposed to know?  Tony’s a big boy.”

“Please,” Natasha snorted.  “How would we have reacted?  Thor had already nearly choked him, and the rest of us sat around and were perfectly clear how much we blamed him.  Anything he said at that point would have come off as an excuse, and while Tony might explain himself every once in a blue moon, he never makes excuses.”

“I am sorry,” Wanda said.  Clint felt for her, but she really shouldn’t have kept it to herself for so long.  He knew that she still had some residual anger at Tony, but even he had to admit that it was pretty misplaced.  He should have seen that there was something else going on.  Hawkeye.  Yeah.  Right.

“I know,” Natasha said, giving a frustrated sigh.  “But as someone recently told me, I’m not really the one who deserves the apology.”

  
  


Christos Panagopoulos worked hard every day for Mr. Stark, sorting the mail that came in for him and his friends.  Although most of the mail these days was for people who weren’t really Mr. Stark’s friends.  The letters and parcels for Mr. Stark, Colonel Rhodes, Dr. Banner, and that red and green fella were passed on to security to be checked out and passed upstairs.  The rest were checked, and then catalogued and stored.  He wasn’t sure why security kept them around, but he supposed it would make it easier to spot any nutjobs.

Back when they’d all been at the tower, most of what he’d seen go through the scanner had been letters or pictures drawn by the kids that idolized the team of heroes.  The packages always required extra attention, beyond looking for powdery substances.  Those were always a crapshoot.  Captain Rogers got his share of cookies baked by little old ladies who had been little girls when he first picked up his shield.  He and Mr. Stark also got their share of ladies unmentionables.  Christos was thankful he never had to dispose of those.  

But mostly it was mundane things.  They got their share of angry letters, sure, but back in the day, most folks had been happy to have them around.  But since the angry robot guy had tried to end the world, the mail had changed.  And the job had changed with it.

Now he wore what they called PPE to sort through the mail.  He had a red jumpsuit, latex gloves,  and a respirator, in case anything was off.  Every piece of mail had to go through a scanner, just to make sure it wasn’t dangerous.  There were fewer brightly colored pictures, and more hate-filled diatribes, but Christos hoped that people would eventually come to remember how much good Mr. Stark had done.  The man didn’t deserve their anger, when it had been the Captain and his buddies who wanted to go off and do whatever they wanted.  Christos was loyal to his boss, and would be for as long as he lived.

The haul this morning was relatively light.  Monday had been heavy, as all of the mail from the weekend piled up on Sunday.  But today there were only two bags of envelopes, and about twenty packages.  Christos dumped the bags onto a conveyor belt and sent them through the scanner, looking for things like ricin and anthrax.  While that chugged away, he carted the parcels over to another scanner, and sent them through one at a time.  

It looked like Mr. Stark had gotten a tea loaf from a lady in Queens, a May Parker.  Cookies for Colonel Rhodes.  And then a package for Captain Rogers.  Whatever it was, it looked like some sort of …

Wait, why was it ticking?


	10. Of Walking on the Mines I’d Laid

_ Now, WHIH brings you breaking news from Manhattan, where an explosion has rocked the Stark Industries building.  While the building itself is still standing, we can see fired is spreading upwards.  New York fire and police are on the scene, and we are told that the National Guard is deploying as well, due to the nature of the incident and the affected parties.  It is not known at this time if Tony Stark and his friends were in the building, but we are told that it is likely.  Now to Cara Mathers on the scene. _

 

**Current Events >Military in the News>Should Active Duty Personnel Serve on Superhero Teams**

 

Marcus Adams

Fort Polk

Leesville Louisiana

 

Oh my God!  There was an explosion at Stark Tower!  Does anyone know if Colonel Rhodes or Mr. Stark were there?

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

Steve sat and stared at the screen in horror.  He watched Tony and Vision enter the lower floors, most likely as search and rescue.  Rhodey was flying around the building, keeping an eye on the structure.  Smoke poured out of their former home, and the police and fire departments were struggling to keep the onlookers back at a safe distance.

Steve wondered who would do this.  Who hated Tony enough to kill so many innocent people?

Then again, maybe they weren’t after Tony at all.

 

 

End Part 1

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I lied. You get three chapters :)

**Author's Note:**

> So, I was listening to music the other day when Fortress Around Your Heart by Sting came on. Coming on the heels of my second viewing of Civil War, it just started spinning in my head. I know there are a ton of fix-its, but this one just won't leave me alone.


End file.
